


The One I Want

by InfiniteMinds



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Long One Shot, Long Shot, M/M, One Shot, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23388094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteMinds/pseuds/InfiniteMinds
Summary: “And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” - The Chaos of Stars
Relationships: Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (The Maze Runner) - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 135





	The One I Want

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I haven’t uploaded anything in a very long time. I always had ideas coming to me, but I could never find the time to finish the stories or I’d get a writers block. But I hope whoever reads this enjoys it and makes you’re heart light and happy :)

“That’s a load of klunk,” declared Gally, shaking his head, a combination of amusement and disbelief written all over his face.

“It’s true!”, insisted Minho, the wide grin on him threatening to split his face in two. “Coach said if I keep playing the way I do, I could end up going pro.”

Teresa rolled her eyes at her sweet, but sometimes dense, boyfriend and asked, “What else did he say?”

“You don’t believe me, woman? I’m hurt.” At her raised eyebrow, he let out a long sigh and, unwillingly, admitted, “Okay, okay. He might’ve said ‘in my dreams’ at one point.” The entire table burst out into loud laughter. They knew Minho all too well to give in to another one of his tales.

For sixteen years, as long as he’s been alive, Gally and Minho were his two closest friends, the brothers he’s never had. Growing up as an only child was hard, but having two parents whose work seemed to be their only love was even harder. Thomas often wondered how he’d turn out if he didn’t have his friends in his life.

Teresa and Minho had only been dating for almost three months now, yet she was the easiest friendship he’s ever made. She was quick to catch onto their way of life and at times often made Thomas ponder over the fact that he just met her.

Thomas shook his head at his best friend. “Maybe come up with a better lie, Min,” he suggested.

“Sorry we can’t all be as brilliant as you, your highness,” Minho teases, the twinkle in his eye betraying his mocking tone.

The brunet boy simply shrugged his shoulders, not saying a word. Thomas wasn’t known to brag about himself or show off in any way, but he couldn’t deny Minho’s words. He was a good soccer player. Scratch that, a _brilliant_ soccer player. Everyone knew it. His friends knew it. His parents knew it. His coach knew it. Hell, even the teachers knew it. There was no doubt in everyone’s minds that he would go pro one day and become the world’s best soccer player.

He just had to survive high school.

* * *

Newt glanced up sharply from his sketch pad at the high pitched sound of laughter. His eyes roamed the cafeteria room until they landed on the cause of the rambunctious noise. He rolled his eyes at their unnecessary antics and continued his work.

“Whatcha got there, Newt?”

The mention of his name caused him to raise his head once more. In front of him, and closer than he’d like, was his newest, and youngest, friend, Chuck. At the mere age of thirteen, Chuck was the latest addition to his group of friends. His brilliant mind is how he came to be in the same grade as everyone else, but his age is what made him a target for bullying. Newt and his friends had no tolerance for such things, so they acted as Chuck’s protectors for the first few weeks of school until they gradually took a liking to the young boy and became his friends.

Chuck blinked and blew his curly hair out of his eyes. “Whatcha got there, Newt?” he repeated, unbeknownst to Newt’s thoughts.

“Just another art assignment, Chuckie,” the blonde boy replied, focusing his mind, once again, on his work.

“Better leave him alone, Chuck,” advised Aris, who sat directly, as usual, on Newt’s right side. “You know he always gets in a mood when people interrupt his genius ideas.”

The curly hairs, chubby boy flushed a bright shade of red and stammered out an apology, which Newt waved away with the flick of his hand.

“Slim it, Aris,” he cautioned with a wink. “You know Chuck doesn’t understand your ‘jokes’”, he added with air quotes.

“You love my jokes,” the dark haired boy shot back.

Before Newt could respond, another one of their friends, Alby, joined the conversation. “Newt’s right,” he said, trying to hide his smile. “How many times do we have to tell you? You’re never going to make it as a comedian so just stop while you still have your dignity.” Aris could only muster up the strength to stick his tongue out, casing Alby to laugh, “Very mature.”

At seventeen, Alby was deemed the “leader” of the group. His age had little to do with the decision. It was his guidance with each new addition to their misfit bunch and the respect he’s earned with almost everyone in school. From the popular jocks and cheerleaders, to the janitorial staff. Everyone knew Alby and knew not to mess with him.

Newt somehow earned the title of being his second in command. A title that seemed to be given to him overnight. Maybe it’s because he’s known Alby since they were in kindergarten. Or maybe it’s because they all know Alby trusts him the most. Or maybe because he doesn’t take anyone’s shit. He likes to think that was the main cause, but he doubted Alby would agree.

Next came Frypan, ‘Siggy’ being his real name. His love for cooking, and hatred for name, is how he earned his nickname. Until Chuck came along, he was the Newbie, the Greenie. It didn’t take long for him to prove his undying loyalty and heart. Just after one day of knowing the fellow, Newt felt as though he’s known him his whole life. And friends like that are hard to find.

And wherever Newt went, Aris followed. The two were hardly inseparable. Being neighbors since they were kids and knowing each other since they were born had that effect on them. They were more than best friends. They were brothers. Brothers whose bond was thicker than blood. A bond that was impenetrable. Their friends often joked that they would get married in the future. A joke that used to amuse Newt, but now just made him uncomfortable.

Newt wasn’t homophobic by any means. He likes to think he’s the least homophobic person in the world. He also knows his and Aris’ relationship has shifted a little. Not to the extent where everything has changed about them, but to the extent that something has changed. The first time he noticed it was at Christmas when they both happened to be standing under the mistletoe. Newt expected Aris to burst out laughing and joke about how kissing him would be the last thing on Earth he’d do. However, when Newt looked into his eyes, he could see the longing and desire burning in the other boy’s eyes. He had made a quick excuse to leave the room and left in a hurry. The days after that were so normal and carefree, it made Newt think he must’ve made the whole thing up.

But ever since then, he swears Aris has been making up every excuse in the world to be near him, to touch him, to hang out with him. A better person would’ve just confronted him right then and there, but Newt was not that person. Sure he could be an ass and a piece of klunk at times, but he would never hurt his best friend. So Newt did his best to ignore it and prayed it was just all in his head.

He’s become quite good at pretending these days.

* * *

Math was never Thomas’ strong suit, but it quickly became his favorite class of the year. His friends all had the same class with him and his favorite teacher, Mr Janson, taught the class. Mr Janson was almost a second father to Thomas. Although, math is the only subject he teaches, he provides much help and guidance for Thomas for his other classes as well.

The class went as smoothly as it possibly could. Questions were asked. Answers were given. Homework was looked over. As it was the last class of the school day, the closer it got until the class was over, the more eager and impatient the students got.

“Being the incredible person I am, I’ll allow you kids to pack up and leave early,” Mr Janson said with a quick smile at the students’ cheers. “Thomas, Newt,” he called out, “if the two of you could hang back for a quick minute, that would be much appreciated.”

Newt paused in picking away his belongings and frowned. Mr Janson, like many of teachers, only called on students to stay after class if they weren’t behaving properly in class or if they weren’t doing too well with their grade in that particular class. Seeing as Newt didn’t fit in either of those classes left him in a puzzled state.

Thomas, on the other hand, knew exactly why _he_ was being held back. Saying math class wasn’t his strong suit was the understatement of the century. He briefly wondered why the other kid, Newt, was there too. The only thing he knew about him was that he was smart.

“Thomas,” began Mr Janson, leaning back against the front of his desk to face the dark haired boy, “the last two tests, the only tests, you’ve taken weren’t exactly your highest scores, were they?”

Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat and nodded. He knew better than to make excuses for his poor test scores. Not with Mr Janson at least.

“We only have one more test of the semester, the midterm, and if you fail that, you fail the class. And I think you know what happens when you fail the class.”

Another nod. It means he gets cut from the soccer team.

The teacher continued, “Look, Thomas, you’re not a stupid kid. I see what you can do once you set your mind to it. Which is why I’ve brought in you, Newt,” he added, shifting his attention to the blonde boy. “You have the highest grade in the class and you always test perfectly. Would it be too much to ask if you could find time in your schedule to help out Thomas?”

Newt’s voice seemed to vanish as soon as Mr Janson and Thomas looked in his direction. Sure he did extremely well in math, but tutoring? He’s never tutored anyone before in his life. Except for Aris in the first grade when he was shit at spelling tests.

Before he could properly respond, Thomas quickly cut in, “Please. There’s no way I can learn all this stuff by myself and I can’t have soccer taken away from me. I just can’t.”

Newt studied Thomas’ face and could see the desperation in his eyes. He looked back at Mr Janson and nodded.

Mr Janson’s face brightened up and he clapped him on the back, “Thank you, Newt. Way to be a team player.” He turned to Thomas once more, “The semester doesn’t end for another three months. Which means you have three months to study your butt off and three months until I’ll allow you to retake the last two tests. Good that, boys?”

Thomas and Newt said in unison, “Good that.”

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay with tutoring me? You can be honest now that Mr Janson’s not here to pressure you.” As soon as they had left the classroom, Thomas and Newt had begun walking to their lockers, not realizing they were walking in the same direction.

Newt shook his head and answered, “No, it’s fine really. I just can’t promise you an A on your tests. I’ve never done this before.”

“Are you sure?”, Thomas persisted. “Because you really don’t have to.” They had reached their lockers by then, which were coincidentally across from each other, and started to grab their things.

He asked, a frown beginning to form on his lips, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Thomas sighed and shut his locker with a slight bang, “I don’t know. I meant what I said in the room, that I can’t lose soccer. But I don’t know,” he scratched his head, suddenly looking uncomfortable, “I just don’t want the entire school knowing that I need a tutor. Like I’m a Greenie.”

“We don’t have to study here,” Newt offered turning around to face the other boy. “We can work at the coffee shop. Or at the public library, or - -.”

“Or at your house?”, he interrupted quickly, eyes hopeful.

Newt nodded, not quite understanding at first, “Yes, at my - - what? Y-You wanted to study...at _my_ house?”

Thomas bobbed his head up and down eagerly, “Yeah, that sounds great!” His phone suddenly vibrated in the palm of his head, “Look, I have to go. I’m really late for practice, but I’ll shoot you a text. Later!” And just like that, he was sprinting down the hallway as fast as his legs would take him.

“What the hell just happened?”, a bewildered Newt asked to the empty hall. Bloody hell, he though and slammed his locker door shut.

* * *

Newt glanced up at the clock on the wall for what seemed like the one hundredth time that evening. _5:10_ it read. Textbooks, pencils, and notebooks were scattered across the table. Various snacks were also present.

He grabbed his cell phone from his backpack and re-read his and Thomas’ texts messages from earlier that afternoon.

**Hey it’s Thomas. Alby gave me ur phone number - T**

Newt hadn’t known what to say to that so he just lamely sent a hello back.

**I have soccer practice after school everyday. Theyre only 2 hrs long tho so I can be at ur house at 5. Where do u live? - T**

He quickly typed out his address. **I have an art class I go to every Tuesday and Thursday so I won’t be able to tutor you those days. That okay? - Newt**

**Sounds good to me. See ya - T**

Newt drummed his pencil on his notebook, his gaze tracking to the clock every other second, his irritability climbing higher and higher. He didn’t think Thomas was the type to make plans and ditch them. His fingers itched to send Thomas a quick text, but he, begrudgingly, allowed the soccer fanatic a thirty minute grace period.

_5:15_

_5:20_

_5:25_

_5:30_

5:35

5:40

As soon as he reached for his cell phone, once again, there was a loud series of knocks on the door, startling him. Newt’s chair screeched as his slid back across the hardwood floor.

He yanked the door open and Thomas stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair messy and wet from an obvious shower. “You’re late,” Newt icily said, turning around and walking back to the table, not even bothering to close the door or welcome his guest.

Thomas rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him, following the blonde boy, “Sorry,” he said, not at all sounded apologetic. “Practice ran late and I needed to shower.”

“5 o’clock means 5 o’clock,” was all he said, opening up his math book. He impatiently gestured to the seat across from him when Thomas just stood there.

He let out a huff of air and collapsed in the chair, “You’re worse than school.”

Newt ignored him, “Okay, let’s begin with algebra.”

* * *

Newt would’ve assumed by their third study session that Thomas would at least know how to be on time. He’d even offered to set back their time by an hour to give Thomas time to get ready before coming over, but the brunet simply waved away his offer and promised to be better the next time.

It was almost 6:30 and they seemed to be getting nowhere. Thomas kept giving him attitude and Newt was almost at his breaking point.

He studied the boy in front of him, watching as he doodled something ridiculous on his paper instead of working on the practice test Newt had drawn up. He seemed oblivious to the world around him. He dropped his pencil every few seconds to answer a text, letting out a laugh or two every time.

“Do you have somewhere more important to be,” Newt finally asked, as he watched for the millionth time as Thomas picked up his phone again. He seemed to shock Thomas, who dropped the cellular device right on his lap. “You know that I don’t _have_ to do this, right? That I don’t have to help you pass in order for you to continuing playing your bloody stupid game.”

That seemed to ignite a flame within Thomas who glared back at him, “Soccer isn’t _stupid_!”

“Then why aren’t you taking this seriously?”, he shot back.

“I am! I’m sorry that I’m not an Einstein shank like you are! Not all of us can understand math like that,” Thomas snapped his fingers with emphasis.

Newt rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me laugh, Thomas. For the past hour, you’ve only only written one thing on the test that _I_ so kindly made for you. It was your name. That’s it. In the last bloody sixty minutes, you drew stupid little figurines on your paper and texted the entire school.”

“You know what? I don’t have to be here either! I can find another person who could actually help me, not tear me down.” Thomas angrily started to gather his papers and books. He stuffed them into his backpack, not caring how they tore or bent. “You’re a piece of klunk!”, was his last insult before storming out of the room.

* * *

“Wait, just hold on one second, you’re _tutoring_ now?” Why that was Aris’ first question, Newt had no idea.

He groaned loudly, “Yes, Aris. I’ve told you this a million times. Mr Janson asked me to tutor Thomas for math because he’s klunk at it.” He has briefly wondered if he should’ve kept Thomas’ name a secret. If he wasn’t too keen on tutoring with Newt in public, he might not like the idea of his name being thrown around. But Newt trusted Aris with his life and found it difficult to keep secrets from him.

Plus he was pissed off still and that part outweighed any part of him that cared about Thomas’s feelings.

“But that’s not the point, Aris! He’s a bloody slinthead who deserves to rot in hell.” After Thomas had stormed out of his house like a child, Newt had come up with more colorful names for him, but an hour later, he had a calmed down somewhat.

“Sorry,” apologized Aris, draping an arm over his friend’s shoulders in a brief hug. After Newt’s disastrous tutor session, he had fled to Aris’ house to vent and two hours of him calling Thomas every vulgar name in the dictionary found them comfortably sitting on Aris’ bed. “What are you gonna do now?”

“What do you mean? I’m going to act as though Mr Janson never spoke to us. I’m going to continue as though Thomas doesn’t exist.”

Aris breathed out an quiet sigh of relief. When he had first heard of his best friend helping the school’s most popular, and most attractive, person, he had feared the worst. His jealously had thought of the worst possible outcomes of Thomas’ and Newt’s newfound possible friendship. It wasn’t easy for him being in love with the person he’s known his entire life. Wondering what Newt’s sexual preference was was the first battle he’s had to overcome. Next was having to go through and sit idly by watching his friend’s many, and questionable, tastes in boys.

“Well, you have me and that’s more important than Thomas this and Thomas that, right?”

Newt smiled, a foreigner to Aris’ thoughts, and agreed, “Yes. As long as I have you, nothing else matters.” And it’s true. Aris was and will always be the greatest friend anyone could ever ask for.

Their faces were so close together that Aris could count every single eyelash on the blonde boy’s face and, without even thinking, he closed the distance between them and crashed their lips together. The single touch seemed to set off every nerve within him. Every wonder and though he’s ever had about what kissing Newt would be like disappeared in a flash. This was everything he thought it’d be and more.

Newt, on the other hand, wasn’t going through the same feelings. His eyes flew right open and he leaned back as far as he could, breaking the kiss as soon as it had happened. His guilty conscious stirred within him when he stared back into Aris’ shocked and heartbroken face. He stuttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “I, uh, didn’t tell my Dad where I was going. He’ll be wondering where I am. I’ll, um, talk to you later.” Newt didn’t give Aris a chance to reply before fleeing out of the house as fast as he could.

_I’m in loads of trouble now_ , he thought grimly to himself.

* * *

Days have gone by and neither Thomas nor Newt have said a word to each other. Newt continues on his art projects and assignments like normal. Mr Janson thankfully hasn’t inquired about Thomas’ tutoring sessions and Newt doesn’t offer any information.

Aris had come over one night and apologized profusely, almost on the verge of tears. He paced back and forth in front of Newt, hands waving in the air, his mouth talking a mile a minute. Greatly amused, Newt accepted his apology easily. This wasn’t something worth losing a friend over.

After Aris had left, the night found Newt hunched over his latest art sketch. It was Chuck’s birthday coming up soon and since he didn’t have enough money to buy the young boy a gift, he was going to draw a picture of everyone. He knew Chuck was a sentimental person, though he tries his hardest to pretend he’s not, and this will hopefully be gift he’ll treasure always.

Newt heard a faint knock on the door, but made no movement to see who’s there. Plus his father’s the closest to the front door, so he blamed it on that. He heard murmured voices and his curiosity got the better of him.

“Who is it, Dad?”, he called out.

“Um, hey.”

Newt’s hand jerked in surprise. His sudden gesture caused his pencil to break, but he hardly noticed. Standing in front of him was Thomas, looking meek and much smaller than his usual six foot self. “What are you doing here?”, he couldn’t help, but ask.

Thomas stuffed his hands in his jeans and said, “Look, man, I’m really sorry about what I said last week. I was tired and frustrated and, yeah, I know math is my favorite subject, but that’s my fault, not yours. So yeah,” he finished lamely.

Newt wasn’t sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it. After a minute of pure silence, he asked,

“What do you want?”

“I want, no, I _need_ your help, Newt. I tried, _like really tried_ , to find someone to teach me this klunk. But I can’t. You’re the best one in the class and if I’m gonna pass this test, it’s gonna be with your help. Will you _please_ give me another chance? I’ll beg if I have to!”

A part of Newt wanted to say no and shove Thomas out the door. Another part of him, though, wanted to accept his apology and move on. He wasn’t the type to hold grudges, but for some reason, in Thomas’ presence, he felt as though everything he ever thought about himself was a lie. As if he’s starting to realize who he thought he was, wasn’t him at all.

As the silence made itself known once again, Thomas became more and more nervous. He didn’t have a backup plan if Newt refused, which he wouldn’t blame him if he did. He was a slinthead and deserved to be off his team. Still, he was never one to just give up without a fight.

Ignoring the feeling of knowing how ridiculous and stupid he’d look, Thomas walked up to Newt and got down on his knees. He grabbed Newt’s hand in his and begged, “Please, Newt, please! Give me one more chance! You won’t regret it!”

Newt rolled his eyes, but couldn’t contain the smile that formed on his lips. He pulled his hand out of Thomas’, “Yeah, alright, shank. I’ll help you. Just get up off the ground. You look stupid.”

Thomas grinned and did as he was told. “Thank you so much, Newt! Seriously, you won’t regret it! I even brought my homework and books so I figured that we could start now!”

“Thomas - -,” Newt tried to interrupt.

“I forgot my pencil, though, or did Minho steal it from me earlier?”, he frowned, trying to recall events from earlier that day. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I’m sure you have a ton.”

“Thomas - -,”

He kept prattling on, taking his things out one by one, hardly noticing the blonde who was trying to capture his attention, “I did try and teach myself some stuff. I felt like a Newbie, but I think i was able to figure some of it out. You’ll have to look over my stuff.”

“Thomas!”, Newt finally yelled. The brunet looked up from where he was flipping through his notebook, a confused look on his face. “Do you know what time it is?”, he asked, more calmly.

“Uh, no?”

Newt simply pointed to the clock and Thomas followed his finger, not sure whether to smack himself with his ruler or burst out laughing.

_11:10_ , it read.

* * *

Ever since Thomas apologized, he’s been on time to every single one of their study sessions and hasn’t missed a day. He’s slowly starting to understand each equation and word problem and flies through Newt’s multiple practice tests with a breeze. Sometimes, he even shows up to Newt’s house earlier than his scheduled time. He doesn’t mention anything about soccer on the days he decides to come early, so Newt just assumes practice was canceled.

Newt has also learned a lot about Thomas, something he didn’t expect when agreeing to this proposal. He found out that Thomas is actually quite smart, not that it took him long to figure it out. The brunet learned the most from visuals rather than reading word for word from a boring, old textbook.

He was also quick to discover that Thomas performed greatly under praise. Sure he’d act indifferent, as if it were no big deal, but Newt could see under his poorly concealed facade withinseconds. He made sure to constantly give out compliments, not enough to give the boy a big head, but enough to give him more confidence in his abilities.

He also liked how Thomas’ brow would furrow when a particular question would stump him. Or how he chewed on the end of his pencil, nervously waiting to see his results on a quiz. Newt wasn’t too sure if he was amused or disgusted by that peculiar habit, but that was neither here nor there.

Thomas himself had made a few discoveries about his _cautiously_ new friend. He didn’t know Newt well enough to talk to him outside of “class” or text him out of the blue, so, for now, he’ll stick with them being cautiously friends.

What he had found out was that, although Newt was incredibly smart and could easily skip a grade or two if he wanted, he didn’t brag about his skill. When Thomas would perform horribly on a practice test, Newt never made him feel stupid or less than, which he never realized how refreshing of a feeling that was.

Growing up as an only child was hard, but growing up with two parents who were both in the medical fields and worked long, stressful hours was, at times, unbearable. He learned to cope with the loneliness, which is one of the reasons he picked up soccer. He had his friends, who would never realize how much of an impact they had on his life. But coming home to an empty, cold house with no one to greet him or ask him how his day went was gruesome.

It didn’t help when, in the few moments his parents were home, that they constantly picked on him and lowered his spirits. They would never grasp the concept that Thomas wasn’t as gifted or as brilliant as they are and they always, _always_ , made him feel lower than dirt.

That was also why he was so keen on coaxing Newt back into tutoring him again. Yes, he’d most definitely fail math class without his help, but he didn’t think he could go through another lonely night at his house again.

So, in a way, Newt was helping Thomas in more than just math.

* * *

Newt decided that Thomas was like a yo-yo. One minute, he could make the blonde feel as though he were the only person left in the world, besides himself. And the next, he’d act as if Newt wasn’t even a person. As though he didn’t exist.

Newt wasn’t an obvious sort of guy. He knew Thomas was the most popular boy in school and with that label came a reputation. He didn’t think they’d suddenly start talking in hallways or make plans after school that didn’t involve homework, but a small part of him, a hopeful yet incredibly stupid part, thought they’d at least be able to exchange greetings when passing each other in the halls or in class.

But life wasn’t like that. At least, not Newt’s life. Like always, Thomas would come and go and never look in his direction or even attempt to _notice_ him and, like always, Newt would try to see things from his point of view and try not to let it hurt him.

And in the evenings, when they would get together, they’d both pretend as though nothing ever happened and would act as if they were friends who didn’t think of what others thought of them.

_We could never be friends_ , Newt thought decisively. _Who am I trying to convince?_

* * *

“Has Newt been acting different?”

Frypan, Alby, and Chuck had their heads collectively bent over the newest issue of the school paper and at the sound of Aris’ voice, their heads snapped up and stared at him as though he grew another arm.

“What do you mean?” Alby was the first to recover from his initial shock and resumed his position over the newspaper.

Aris dumped his backpack on the ground and sighed, “I don’t know. I just feel like for the past two weeks, it’s only been us here. Hasn’t anyone else noticed?”

Chuck nodded, his dark curls bouncing with each bob of his head, “Yeah, I think I’ve noticed that too, but I just thought he was busy with another project of his.”

“Isn’t he tutoring someone?”, Frypan pointed out. “Maybe that’s where he’s at all the time now.”

He had a point, Aris had to admit, but he just knew that wasn’t all of it. Something was going on with his best friend and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

Alby straightened up and fixated his friend with a pointed stare, “I think you’re making up all this klunk inside your head, man. I know you and Newt go way back, but if you go around digging where you aren’t supposed to be digging, you might end up finding something you’re not supposed to know. Good that?”

In his mind, Aris was ready to fire back and nail Alby to the ground, but the rational part in his mind advised against it. If his friends didn’t believe him, he’d just have to prove it himself. He nodded, feigning defeat, and said, “Good that.”

* * *

True to his word, Aris made an excuse not to stay at school later that day instead of waking home with Newt like they always do. Truthfully, he was a little hurt inside when Newt accepted his excuse too easily, but he decided to squash that feeling and not let it resurface until another day.

He thanked, not for the first time, his lucky stars that he and Newt lived right next to each other. This helped his situation greatly. Not only did he not have to camp outside his friend’s house for god knows how long, he could also do it from the inside of his comfortable room.

Aris dragged his desk chair and planted himself right in front of his guest room’s window. A window that gave him the perfect view of who walks in Newt’s from door and the living room. Even though Newt had told him who he was tutoring, he had convinced himself that there was something going on between the two of them.

It was a ridiculous thought, even for him, but he just _knew_ that it was the only plausible reason. Newt hardly ever offers to grab a bite to eat after school or stays in the art room until the custodian threatens to lock them in until the next day. He goes straight to school and straight home and if that didn’t scream suspicious, Aris didn’t know what would.

“I’m going to prove Alby wrong,” he muttered to himself, shifting in the uncomfortable chair for the fifth time since he’s come home. He cell phone was clutched in his hand, ready to snap a photo if need be. Thank good his mom wasn’t home or else he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

“Okay, what’s going on?” Newt finally asked, dropping his pencil. He and Thomas have been working silently for the past thirty minutes. Silence and Thomas were hardly ever said in the same sentence, which caught Newt’s attention. That and the fact that the boy across from him was only on the second problem of the evening. If he were working with the old Thomas, he wouldn’t have been surprised, but he thought that the new Thomas finally found his groove in math.

Thomas ignored his question and asked one of his own, “If I weren’t here, what would you be doing?”

That wasn’t the response he had expected. At all. He blinked and replied, confused, “Uh, I’d be working on my homework alone?” He ended his statement with a questioning tone, not sure where their conversation was heading.

“It’s Friday night,” he clarified. “There’s this huge party and I’m missing out on it. You’re missing out on it. I used to go out every Friday night with my friends. We would hit up a party or go see a movie or do something that didn’t involve school. Can we maybe end this early so I can go?” Thomas asked hopefully, flashing his most charming smile.

Newt rolled his eyes, not falling for his act, and pointed out, “You’re the one that agreed to Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

He groaned loudly and moved closer to Newt so that they were side by side, “Please, Newt, please!”, he dragged out the last ‘please’ for as long as he could without taking a breath.

The boy in front of him stared at him, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. “I’m sure you can catch the end of the party,” he paused and said slowly, “when we’re done.”

“Please!”

“No, Thomas.”

“Please!”

“Thomas.”

“Pretty please with whipped cream, cherries, and a British accent on top?”

That caught Newt off guard and he laughed, “You’re going all out, aren’t you, Tommy?”

Thomas nodded triumphantly, “You know it.” His brows furrowed for a minute and he titled his head, “Tommy?”

“Uh, what?”

“That’s what you called me. You said ‘you’re going all out, aren’t you, _Tommy_?’”, he quoted in the worst accent Newt’s ever heard in his life.

Newt chose not to comment on the “accent” and shrugged his shoulders, faking indifference even though he was positive his cheeks were fiery red, “It just came out.”

Thomas pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “I like it,” he finally decided, smiling. “No one’s ever tried calling me that before. It’s different.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun or not.”

“No, no I’m not,” he said earnestly. He really wasn’t. The only nickname he was ever given was “Tom” and there’s nothing horrible about that nickname per se, but it wasn’t his favorite. He’d rather be called by his actual name instead, not that he’d tell his friends or anyone who’s called him that before. “Tommy” was unexpected and not a name he ever thought of being called.

Thomas wasn’t sure how Newt did it, but when he was around him, he felt as though he was more himself than he ever was with his friends or parents. As though the mere presence of Newt broke down every barrier within him. He wasn’t someone’s captain or someone’s son. He wasn’t “popular Thomas” or “stupid Thomas”. He felt as though he didn’t have to be anyone else but him.

Which was why he suddenly leaned over and pressed a firm, yet also gentle, kiss to Newt’s lips.

* * *

As Aris peered through his telescope, yep he brought out the big guns, his eyes narrowed in jealously when he saw Thomas leap up from his chair to sit closer to Newt.

He was able to snap a few photos of the two talking over something that clearly wasn’t about homework or school. His palms became more and more sweaty and his heart pounded in his chest, jealously surging through his body. He didn’t even know why he was feeling this way when nothing seemed to have happened.

_Not yet anyways_ , he thought grimly to himself.

The sound of his front door swinging wide open had him jump to his feet, his heart still thumping wildly within him, this time with fear of being caught. Aris quickly pushed the chair back to its rightful place and in his haste to put away his telescope, he accidentally knocked it over onto the floor and into several pieces.

“Aris?”, he heard his mom’s voice call from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

He swore silently to himself and called back, lying through his teeth, “Yeah, I just needed to grab my telescope for a project and it dropped.”

“Be careful!”

“I am!”, he yelled back. Forcing the pieces in the case, he quickly zipped it shut and stuffed it back underneath the guest bed. Before leaving the room, he glanced outside the window once more and groaned loudly.

No one was there.

* * *

If someone had told Newt that two people were going to kiss him, without his knowledge, in the same month, he would have called them insane.

Yet, here he was. Sitting next to Thomas, kissing him. Except this kiss wasn’t at all like Aris’. That kiss, a kiss he’d like never to rethink again, was cold and uncomfortable and just plain weird. No, Thomas’ wasn’t like that at all.

His lips were soft and warm. Fierce, but tender. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about what a kiss with the most popular, and most attractive, person would be like. Being one of the only out gay kids in school limited his choices and he, like so many other people in the world, had fantasies.

And it felt bloody phenomenal.

As soon as their kiss broke, which ended quicker than Newt would’ve liked, they just stared at each other, not sure what to say. The clock ticked away, seeming louder than usual, and it was so quiet in the room, they could hear the echoes of a train from miles away.

Thomas was the first to look away, his cheeks flushed. “Shuck, I shouldn’t have done that. Shuck. Shuck. Shuck.” He quickly started to gather his belongings. Thankfully for him, it was five minutes past seven which meant their tutor session had come to and end and he was free to leave without making up an excuse. “I’ll, uh, see you at school,” were Thomas’ last words before he hurriedly left.

The sound of the door shutting behind him broke Newt from whatever reverie he was in. A million thoughts were swirling around his head, but he couldn’t make sense of any of them. All he knew was that he could feel an impending headache coming on.

And how much he wanted to kiss Thomas again.

* * *

It doesn’t surprise Newt that he received no texts or phone calls over the weekend after their little “incident”. There would be times he almost forgot it had happened, but as soon as it slipped from his mind, it’d would get pulled out from his subconscious and small butterflies would erupt inside his stomach.

It was hard keeping something like this from his friends, especially from Aris, but he knew this was something he’d take with him to the grave, no matter what.

Surprisingly school on Monday came and went with no worries. Of course it helped that Thomas was absent that day due to family issues, according to his friends who are horrible liars. Newt made a mental note to mention that to Thomas the next time he sees him. _If I ever see him,_ thought grimly. He had already come to an agreement with himself that Friday was most likely the last day of his teachings. He wasn’t going to beg Thomas to come back. He wasn’t going to promise to forget the whole thing happened. He wasn’t going to do anything at all.

Which was why it came to an utter shock to Newt when Thomas strolled through his front door at exactly five in the evening, backpack casually strung over one shoulder, an easy going smile on his face.

“Hey, Newt,” he greeted him, his smile never faltering, pulling out his books and pencils as thought it was just another day.

It took Newt a minute to recover, but he replied back, a bit uneasy, “Hey, Tom - Thomas.” He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to call him “Tommy” anymore. “Uh, how was your day?”

He shrugged, “It was alright. I partied a little too much last night so I decided not to come to school today. Did I miss anything important?” At Newt’s small shake of the head, he breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, that’s good,” was all he said before immersing himself into the world of equations. He didn’t dare risk a glance in the blonde boy’s direction, wanting him to believe that everything was going to be the same, that nothing had changed.

Thomas just couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. He hadn’t lied to Newt. Not really. He really had partied over the weekend, just not on the day he had said. As soon as he rushed out of Newt’s house Friday night, his first immediate plan was to find a party. And drink.

_Thomas flung his backpack in his car, not paying any attention as his papers and books fell on the floor of his backseat. He quickly roared his car to life and sped off, heading towards the nearest empty parking lot he could find._

_As soon as he found his destination, he dialed Minho’s number, swearing when his clumsy thumbs misdialed._

_“Hey ya, shank!” Minho yelled, obviously drunk. “What you at? The party just got good!”_

_Thomas rolled his eyes and demanded, “Where at?”_

_“T’s house! Her parents are gone alllllll weekend long! Hell yeah!”_

_“I’m on my way.”_

_It took him less than ten minutes to arrive at Teresa’s house. Finding a parking spot was harder than he’d imagined, but he eventually was able to leave his car in a secure location. He quickly jogged towards the house, music thumping loudly, the sound of teenagers’ laughs and voices even louder._

_He yanked the door open, ignoring the sounds of his name coming from every direction of the house. He pushed past various people, his eyes landing on the beautiful sight of vodka, tequila, and every bottle of alcohol there was in the world._

_Thomas simply just grabbed an opened bottle of his favorite vodka, took a big gulp from it, not caring as it burned his throat, and tried in vain to find his friends._

_He spotted Minho first, in an intense lip lock session with Teresa on the couch. His shirt was unbuttoned and her dress was hiked up her thighs. He took another swig of his drink and collapsed in an empty chair next to them._

_Minho finally caught sight of him and gently pushed Teresa to the side. “Tom! You made it!”_

_Teresa’s eyes lit up and she reached over and gave him a hug. “Tom’s here!”, she squealed in delight, her words a little slurred. She noticed his now almost half empty bottle of vodka and raised her eyebrows. “Bad night?”, she guessed._

_Thomas simply shrugged and took another gulp. He hadn’t eaten anything since earlier that morning so he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Bad life,” he said._

_Although Minho was as drunk as his girlfriend, he sat a little straighter on the couch, and asked, concerned, “What’s up, dude? Parents giving you a hard time.”_

_He contemplated telling his friends about what had happened with Newt, he really did. But he knew they were shitfaced and to be honest so was he, so what was the point? They’d all forget about it come tomorrow morning._

_Instead he lied, drinking away his thoughts, “Yeah. It’s always them.”_

_“Dude, you can’t let them get to you. They’re slintheads who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. It’s sucks, but it’s true.”_

_“Yeah, I know,” Thomas agreed half heartedly. By then, his bottle was nearly empty, but wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he needed. No, what he desperately needed was a distraction. He surveyed the room, wondering who that lucky girl could be._

_It didn’t take him very long, but he soon put his sights on a girl named Brenda. They were friendly enough and had a few classes together. They talked a little, but not enough to actually know one another. Perfect, he though. Exactly what I need._

_Surprisingly, Lady Luck was on his side that night, because just after a few short minutes of talking to Brenda, they were later face to face, lying down in one of Teresa’s many bedrooms, door unlocked, and shirts off._

_“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” Brenda said breathlessly, kissing him in between her words._

_Thomas didn’t answers, instead just silenced her with his lips. She was pretty hot, he had to admit. But entirely too brunette. He preferred slim, blonde boys- - -_

Stop that, Thomas _, he mentally scolded himself. This was definitely not the time nor place to be thinking about that._

_But he just could not help himself. Every time he had a moment alone with his thoughts, all he could think about was Newt. His hair. His eyes. His smile. Even his limp that was hardly noticeable._

_Thomas was never one to put labels on things, but he had always wondered what it’d be like to be with another boy. He’s had several girlfriends in the past, and they’ve all been more than great, but there was always something lacking in his relationships. At movies, while his friends were gushing over the women on screen, he’d privately be checking out the men._

Just another thing to add to the list of why my parents hate me _, he thought._

_“Are you okay?”, Brenda asked tentatively, breaking his thoughts. He glanced back down at her and she was staring up at him, a worried look on her face. “I mean, you do want this, right?”_

_Thomas nodded and forced a smile on his face. “Of course,” he lied, kissing her again, his hands roaming her body, her breasts, willing his body to cooperate with his thoughts._

_Her face brightened up again once more and she reached down to shimmy out of her skirt. That when Thomas couldn’t handle it anymore. He reached down and grabbed her wrists before she could undo her zipper._

_Before she could say anything, Thomas said, “I’m - I’m sorry, Brenda. But I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”_

_Brenda’s pretty face twisted in anger and confusion. She shoved Thomas off of her and quickly pulled her shirt on, sliding off the bed. “You’re despicable, Thomas,” she spat out coldly. “Screw you!” She slammed the door behind her and he could hear her footsteps run down the stairs._

_He groaned and buried his face in his hands._ You have no idea, Brenda, _he thought. He sat there for a few minutes before standing up. When he bent down to grab his shirt that fell on the ground, he also came across an almost full bottle of tequila._

_Thomas yanked his shirt over his head and held the bottle in his hands. “Not my favorite,” he said to himself, “but it’ll do.”_

_Okay. So maybe Lady Luck was not on his side._

Thomas grimaced to himself as the memories from the previous nights had resurfaced in his mind. He had called Brenda the following day to apologize, but was hung up on almost immediately after accepting his call. Not that he expected anything less from her.

Newt interrupted his inner monologue, Thomas’ homework in his hands, “You’re getting better and better at this, Thomas. At this rate, you’ll - - -.”

“Newt?”, interrupted Thomas, not hearing a word the other boy had said.

“Yeah?”, he asked blankly, looking at him.

He took a deep breath, “I’m, ah, sorry about the other night and the, um, kiss.” He said the last word in a whisper, as if it were a sin to say it in a normal tone.

Newt gave him a half smile and answered, “It’s alright, Tommy. I haven’t even given it a second thought, honestly.”

Thomas nodded and replied, lying straight though his teeth, “Same here. Not at all.”

A few uncomfortable minutes passed between them. This is what Thomas feared the most. That his stupid actions led to severe consequences like losing friendships such as Brenda and now Newt. He had stupidly hoped things would go back to normal. _Obviously not,_ he thought bitterly.

“Thomas?”, asked Newt quietly. He was looking down at his lap, his fingers playing with a loose piece of thread at the bottom of his jacket. Before speaking again, he took a deep breath and glanced at Thomas.

“Yeah?”, said Thomas, just as softly. He scanned his brain, wondering what on earth Newt was about to say. _Maybe he can’t take it anymore,_ he thought to himself. _Maybe Newt’s finally had enough of what he thought were meaningless apologies._

“I, um, lied earlier,” he confessed, heart thumping more wildly than ever. Don’t say another word, his brain screamed at him. Feed him another lie and move on. You don’t even know what you’re saying is true. You hardly know the guy. “I have been thinking about...what happened last week. It’s the only thing I’ve thought for the past three days and - - -.”

“Newt - -,” he tried to interrupt in vain.

“No, let me finish, please,” he pleaded, holding his palms up. “I like to think that we’re friends and I don’t like lying or keeping things from my friends. I’m shit at it. Ask Aris or Alby, or any of them,” he let out a small laugh. “Anyways, uh, I know we barely know each other. I don’t know you’re favorite food or why you like soccer of all things.”

“Hey! Soccer is a great sport!” Thomas managed to finally get word in, pretending to be annoyed.

Newt chucked, “Sure, sure, Tommy. Now stop interrupting me,” he commanded playfully, before getting back to their serious conversation. “I don’t know what it is I’m feeling, mostly because I’ve never felt this before, but I like you Thomas. You’re shit at accents, not too bad at math anymore, and are the most complicated person in the world, but I wouldn’t want you to change it for the world. And if you don’t feel the same why, I get it, I do, but I hope that it doesn’t change our friendship.” He let out a nervous laugh, “Alright, now that I’ve completely embarrassed myself, please say something.”

For the first time since he could remember, Thomas was rendered speechless. With his past girlfriends, he was always the one professing his feelings first. Whether his words were true or not was a different matter entirely, but this was a new experience for him.

Thomas didn’t realize had started speaking until he heard himself talk, his voice sounding distant to his ears. “I made out with Brenda over the weekend.”

That felt like a punch to Newt’s stomach. He had rehearsed many different scenarios with himself over the weekend, trying to come to terms with how he thought Thomas would react. This was definitely not one of them. “I’m sorry?”, he croaked out, throat dry.

Thomas continued speaking, as though he didn’t hear a word he said, “I was drunk and in my feelings and I needed to feel something else so I made out with her. I thought it would help me finally understand what I was going through, and it did, but it also made me more confused.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas, but you’ve lost me. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m getting to the point, I think. I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have this whole speech memorized,” he laughed nervously. “But I think my point is that, I understand what you’re saying. Every girl I’ve been with, there was something missing. I liked them, sure, but I didn’t like them as a boyfriend should like his girl. So I would break up with one girl and dat another, hoping she was the problem and not me.”

As he was talking, Newt was watching him struggle with his words, completely silent. A tiny little flutter of hope bubbled up inside him. He didn’t want to, but he was hoping this conversation was heading in the direction he so desperately wanted it to go.

“I guess, no I know, what I’m trying to say is that I like you too. I mean, that’s why I kissed you, isn’t it?” Thomas let out a chuckle and exhaled, breaking the tension, “God, I used to be so good at romantic speeches.”

Newt raised an eyebrow, “You sure about about that, Tommy? Maybe that’s what drove those poor girls away.”

“Very funny, shank,” he rolled at his eyes. They sat in the first comfortable silence of the evening, both unsure what to say next. “So, what now?”, he finally asked.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

The next few days after their confessions were the best days Newt’s ever had. He felt as though he could be more himself with Thomas than he could be with anyone else. Their tutor sessions were still going strong, adding on extra hours and days.

They also learned a lot about each other.

_“Hold on!”, laughed Thomas, munching on chips. They had abandoned their homework for the rest of the night and were lounging on the sofa. “His name is actually Frypan? I know you guys are nerds, but what the hell?_

_“Hey! He introduced himself like that. We just along with it,” said Newt, defending his friends. He was laughing too. “I’m sorry we can’t all have normal names like Minho!”_

_“Alright, alright!”, he held up his hands. “Fair point.”_

They also talked about the more serious stuff as well.

_“I never knew my mother,” confessed Newt. Their backpacks were left on the floor, unopened, and they were devouring a pizza at the table. “She left my Dad as soon as she gave birth to me and we’ve never seen her since.” At Thomas’look of sympathy, he quickly added, “It’s alright. As long as I have my dad, I have all I need.”_

_Thomas said, “At least you have your Dad. I should be lucky that I have both of my parents, but it feels like I don’t have any at all because they work all the damn time. I used to love it. I’d get away with almost anything when they weren’t here. But when they were, which they barely were, they always, always, criticized me. About grades, about my friends, soccer. They’d always find a way to hate on me.”_

Their conversations varied day by day, usually depending on Thomas’ mood Newt was quick to discover. If he wasn’t feeling his best self one day, later that night, they’d talk about how horrible his parents are or what he’d do if he couldn’t play soccer anymore. If Thomas had aced a practice test, they’d be laughing the night away. Newt didn’t care what they talked about. He was just happy to have Thomas.

* * *

The only condition about their relationship that Thomas requested was that they keep it private. _I just don’t want my friends finding out about me, about us, just yet_ , he had told Newt, who, even though he appreciated his honesty, couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He tried to tell himself it was because Thomas wasn’t ready to come out, which he fully and completely supported, but he had a nagging feeling it was due to Thomas behind ashamed of him.

Sometimes, however, he’d forget that there was an entire world outside Thomas. They would just get so caught up in their conversations of their feelings, that, just for a moment, it was only him and Thomas. No one else existed.

As their relationship grew stronger, they eventually moved from the dining room to the living room to Newt’s room.

“God, I could do this all day long,” panted Thomas, his face hovering over Newt’s as they lay on his bed. They had completely ditched their homework and had been fooling around for almost thirty minutes.

“So would I,” agreed Newt, both of them exchanged heated kisses in between their words, “but I’m afraid that would cause you to fail math thus getting kicked off the team. What would you do then, Tommy boy?”, he asked teasingly.

“Kiss you more?”, returned Thomas hopefully. Newt simply laughed and rolled them over so that he was on top once more.

Oh yeah. He definitely had it bad for this boy.

* * *

Early Thursday morning before school, Aris dashed to the art room, knowing fully well that everyone, but Newt, would be there. True to his word, he had brought proof that something was going on with Newt and he couldn’t wait to shove it in Alby’s face.

He simply yanked his phone out of his pocket and wordlessly handed it to Alby, who, with a questioning stare, glanced down at it. Frypan and Chuck crowded around his, peering over his shoulder.

“What is this?”, Alby finally asked, not sure what he was looking at. All he saw was Newt and some random guy talking and doing what looked to be schoolwork.

“Proof!”, insisted Aris. “Proof that Newt had been acting different.”

Frypan and Chuck just exchanged amused glances with each other, hiding their laughter behind fake coughs. Alby, on the other hand, wasn’t too thrilled with Aris’ findings. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to snoop through his personal life.”

“I never agreed to that,” he replied, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “You lot thought I was making this klunk up, but I’m not. This,” he shook his phone in front of their wary eyes, “this is proof. Proof that Newt is ditching me - - us,” he quicker amended.

“I don’t think that counts as proof,” Chuck timidly pointed out. He hated confrontation as muchas the next person, but he wanted to defend his friend.

Aris glared at him and opened his mouth, but Alby was quick to interrupt. “Look, Aris, I know you’ve known Newt longer than any of us, but what you’re doing is wrong. Don’t start something that could end your friendship with Newt just because you’re jealous that he’s not spending time with you.”

The room became so silent that the only sound was the ticking of the clock. Frypan and Chuck wisely kept their mouths shut and looked at Aris to view his reaction.

Aris merely pressed his lips together tightly, his eyes bright and cheeks red with fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Alby. But you’re right. I have known Newt longer than the rest of you shanks and honestly, your opinions don’t matter to me. I know I’m right and you’re gonna find it out one day.” He spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls of his “friends”.

_Those slintheads will get what they deserve_ , he thought viciously.

* * *

That following night, Aris wisely chose to leave his telescope back in the safety of his guest room. Instead, he had borrowed a camera from the yearbook committee and, as soon as the sun had set, perched on his window seal, which had the perfect view of Newt’s, coincidentally, opened bedroom window. He snapped a few quick shots, adjusting the brightness and zoom. He didn’t want anyone to catch him, of course.

It took awhile and Aris almost passed out from boredom, but he finally caught sight of Newt and Thomas emptying their schoolwork onto his bed. He was quick to point out the fact that they no longer studied downstairs.

An hour or so went by of them just working on their homework. Their heads were bent closer than normal and they exchanged more glances at each other, but nothing that screamed scandalous.

He was almost ready to give up, when he saw Thomas push away their belongings until they fell off the bed. Intrigued, Aris brought the camera up to his face, watching eagerly through the lens. His excited ness soon faded away to shock when he saw their faces lean towards each other ever so slowly before kissing tenderly.

It didn’t take long before both of their shirts were also retired to the floor. Aris kept snapping away, photo after photo, seething. He was so committed to solving the puzzle that was Newt and Thomas that he didn’t have time to fully realize what this meant for him. How this crushed every hope and dream he ever had.

Jealous turned into pain and pain quickly morphed into rage. He threw his camera on his bed and yanked his curtains shut, unable to bear witness to what was going on next door. Watching his best friend and love of his life was excruciating and embarrassing. He wanted, no needed, Newt to feel exactly what he was feeling, no matter the cost.

Aris powered up his laptop and plugged in all the right cords to download the photos he had just taken. Within seconds, he had everything set up just how he wanted.

He closed his eyes and hit send.

* * *

Thomas stuck his key into his front door, opening and calling out, “I’m home!”, being fully aware that he was alone in the house. It was a little joke he made up with himself when he was younger and had transformed into a habit.

He dumped his backpack on the floor and raced up the stairs to his bedroom, sticking his phone on his charger that dangled from the side of his bed. Earlier than evening, his phone had died, not that he had noticed. He and Newt were...involved in something else.

It take a few minutes for his phone to return to life. He was too busy working on homework, _yes_ , he thought proudly, _Thomas does homework_ now, to pay any attention to it.

It was only when Thomas heard the familiar sound of his text tone pinging a million times that he finally turned his head, wondering what the hell was going on. Scrolling through his phone, he discovered he’s missed at least fifty calls from his friends and even more calls from Newt. His text messages were chiming like crazy, but, and it took him a few minutes to quickly read though his messages, he was able to find out what was causing this sudden chaos.

It was Minho’s text chat he opened up first.

**Dude! What the hell! Whats this klunk thats going around? Is it u? - Min**

Thomas anxiously tapped on the attached photo, his mind swirling with endless possibilities. His stomach fell straight through the phone when he saw what the message contained.

Every other message that was sent to him contained the same exact photo and text. Friends he’s hardly talked to in years were suddenly trying to obtain as much information from him as possible. People he didn’t even have in his contact list were doing the exact same thing.

Newt, he thought abruptly. If this photo reached him, he was sure it Newt would’ve had it by now too. He went to dial Newt’s number, but paused, suddenly unsure. He didn’t know what to do. Something like this has never happened before, to anyone at their school. _Fight or flight_ , he thought. _Fight or flight._

After what felt like an eternity, Thomas simply turned his cell phone off and collapsed on his bed, feeling like his world was crumbling before this eyes and there was no way of stopping it.

* * *

Newt, also, was battling an internal conflict within himself. _To go to school or to not go to school,_ he thought grimly. He was never one to just run away from a problem, but face it head on. Then again, he’s never been in a position like this before.

Taking a deep breath, he put on what he hoped was the world’s most convincing brace face, and pushed open the doors to his school. He held his head up high as he walked past the stares and whispers of his fellow classmates. People snickered, of course they did, but Newt tried his hardest to tune them out.

His locker was always the closest to the exit doors of the school, but for some reason, it felt like it too him an eternity to reach them. His hands shook on their own accord as he reached for his textbooks.

Newt could feel the intense gaze of people around him, watching him like a hawk, weighing him down like a ton of bricks. He slammed his locker door shut, unable to stand it any locker, and raced to the art room, his only safe haven in the world right now.

* * *

The weekend flew by, uneventfully thank goodness. As did the weeks after that.

As soon as Newt had escaped school that fateful date, more grateful of his free period than ever before, the first thing he tried to do was contact Thomas. When he had first caught sight of the photo, calling Thomas was his only priority. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised when he received no response in return. One of the few things he knew about Thomas was certain, he didn’t do well under criticism. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but he had hoped that as long as they had each other, as long as they were together, they could take on the world.

Of course, klunk like that only happened in movies and books.

Newt didn’t want to give up hope, however. He called everyday, sent dozens of text messages, but was given nothing back. Only silence. As the days went by, he eventually stopped harassing Thomas, deciding to give him space and time.

Thomas, unsurprisingly, had stopped coming to his tutor sessions. He seemed to be doing well on his own though. In class, Newt sometimes overheard Mr Janson praising the soccer athlete on homework they were given that particular night. It had sent a surge of pride through Newt. Even though he was heartbroken, he still wanted nothing but the best for Tommy.

* * *

“Who do you think could of done something like this?”, inquired Chuck, not for the first time. When they had found out about Newt and Thomas, they, like anyone else, were shocked. And then they were pissed.

Frypan shrugged, “Who knows? I’ve been studying the picture, trying to figure out anything that sticks out to me, but so far, nada.” He has taken a keen interest in photography earlier in the year and wanted to apply his knowledge to Newt’s current situation, dying to help him out someway.

They both sat in stony silence, racking their brains trying to find out who could’ve done such a horrible thing to two great people. They hardly knew Thomas, but he was never rude to them. He always was kind to them in the few instances they ever spoke.

Alby stayed silent throughout their little exchange. He had one person in mind on who he thought could do damage like this. He just hoped to god he was wrong.

Later that afternoon, long after everyone had left for the day, Alby had wandered casually into the yearbook room. It wasn’t a room he visited often, but as class president, he liked to pop his head into all of the clubs at school. This time, however, wasn’t a friendly visit, it was a professional one.

Once he had found the person he was looking for, he quickly crossed the room and watched her work for a couple seconds.

“Some people might call this stalking, Alby,” remarked Teresa, spinning around in her chair, a teasing smile lighting up her face. They had only just become friends, but he was convinced she was a person he could trust.

“Very funny,” he replied, before getting right to the point. “I need your help. You’re in charge of all the equipment here, right?”

She nodded, “I am, yeah. Unless I’m sick or something, then the teacher takes over, but that hardly happens. Why?”, she asked, with a confused look on her face.

“I want to help find out whoever did this to our friends. I have a a person in mind, but I can’t confront him without proof. I only took one semester ofphotography, but I know whoever took this picture must’ve taken it with a good camera.” He nodded towards the black camera Teresa had sitting on her desk and added, “a really nice camera.”

“What are you asking?”

“I need to know who you lent out cameras too recently. It would’ve been checked out most likely the day of that stupid picture got sent out. And I know you guys hardly let students take cameras home unless it was absolutely needed.”

She did know that. But she hesitated slightly, unsure if she should give him the list or not. But then she thought of Thomas and how sickening his situation was. She told him, “I can search the list right now, but you have to swear that whatever you find, you didn’t find it from me. Good that?”

Alby nodded his head, letting out a sigh of relief.

Teresa quickly logged into her computer, scrolling and clicking through many files and folders until she seemed to have found what she was looking for. “I had forgotten I wasn’t here that day. I had a mandatory cheer meeting that day so if we happen to find someone, I can’t guarantee they were in here.” She tapped away on her mouse, a determined glint in her eyes. “Aha!”, she finally exclaimed after the longest minute of Alby’s life. “It looks like there were only three people who checked out cameras that day; Jeff, Winston, and Aris. And it looks like they were first people to check out any type of equipment in weeks.”

“Son of a bitch,” whispered Alby, his fists clenched tightly. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t want this to be true. But when he thought back to how irrational and insane Aris has been acting, everything’s added up.

Now he just has to break the news to Newt.

* * *

Newt and Aris were walking home together from school, side by side, chatting about anything and everything.

“Hey, I forgot to ask,” began Newt, as they approached their houses, “how’d yearbook going?”

Aris frowned, puzzled, and said slow, “I don’t have yearbook. I’m not even in the club.” He wasn’t sure where their conversation was headed. Newt knew he had no interest in that kind of klunk.

“Photography? No, I could have sworn it was yearbook.”

He stopped them in their tracks, “Newt, you know I don’t have any of those classes. What’s going on?” He truly was confused.

Newt scrutinized him, unsure whether to laugh or not. “Really? Then why did you check out one of their cameras? The day of that photo was sent to everyone in the bloody school district. People who didn’t even go to our school found out about it.”

Aris licked his dry lips, his heart skipping a beat. Things for him and Newt has returned to their normal state and he had truly forgotten about what he had done. “Who told you?”, he finally found the courage to ask.

He threw up his hands in the air and let out a noise of disbelief. “You’re not even going to try and deny it, are you?” , he demanded. “It doesn’t matter who told me. That’s not even the point, Aris! Why? What did I ever do to you?”

“You ruined us, Newt!”, snapped Aris. “Ever since you started hanging out with _Thomas_ ,” he spit at his name as if it were poison on his lips, “you’ve ditched me. You ditched _us_! And is wrote I was going to find proof and I did. And I’m not sorry I sent it out! It needed be done! Because now,” he softened his tone, “you and I are better than ever. And I’d do it all over if I had to.

Newt stared at him, incredulous. Aris wasn’t even sorry he’d done it. He acted as though he were doing Newt a favor. “A friend would never do this, certainly not a best friend. You not only hurt me, Aris, but you hurt someone you don’t even know. I’m sorry, but what you did is beyond forgivable. Don’t try calling me or whatever. Just leave me the hell alone,” he turned away to leave.

Aris reached out and grabbed him by the wrist desperately. “Newt, please,” he tried to beg. Newt just yanked his arm out of his grasp and threw him the dirtiest look he could muster. “Just know that you started this!”, he screamed at his back, rage boiling up inside him.

“How the hell did I start this?”

He marched right up to the blonde boy until their were mere inches from each other. “You started this,” he said, pointing at his chest with every word. “Did you think that you were gonna tutor him and he’d fall in love with you and you’d live happily ever after?”

“Back the hell up right now,” warned Newt. He’s never punched someone, but he was more than willing to start now.

“Or what? You couldn’t take me even if you - - -.”

“He told you to back the hell up.” Newt and Aris whipped their heads at the sound of someone else’s voice. Thomas was marching right up to them, jaw set, and fists clenched. He repeated, not taking his eyes off Aris, “He told you to back the hell up so I suggest you listen to him.”

Fear crept up in Aris’ voice, but he remained still. “This isn’t about you, shank. What makes you think you can - - OW!” His idle threat was interrupted at the sound of his nose crunching. Thomas retracted his fist, seeming unaffected by his action. Aris, on the other hand, not so much. “You idiot!”, he screamed, blood running down his chin. “You broke my nose!” He glared at them both before running to his house, slamming the door behind him.

“I think I improved it, actually,” commented a Thomas, flexing his hand.

Newt stared at him disapprovingly, “You shouldn’t done that.” He, too, made his way towards his house.

Thomas followed quickly after him. “Wait,” he called, “I wanted to apologize.”

“I’m getting really tired of your apologies, Tommy. You screw up. You apologize. I forgive. And so on and so on. But what if I don’t want to forgive you?” They were now standing in Newt’s doorway. “I needed a friend, Thomas, not a boyfriend, and you cut me out. Why should I forgive you?”

“I don’t know!”, he exclaimed desperately. “But you have to give me another chance. Please! I’ll do anything!”

“How do I know that when the next bad thing to happens, you won’t brush me aside like I don’t matter?” He exhaled, tired and frustrated. “I thought things were good between us. That we had feelings for each other and mattered to each other.”

“We do!”, insisted Thomas.

“Then, what’s going to be different this time? How can I trust you? How do I even know you like me?”

He tried to explain. “Because...,” he paused, not quite sure what he was going to say.

Newt stared at him disbelievingly, “Because what, Tommy?”

“Because I think I’m in love with you,” he burst out finally, throwing caution to the wind. He continued speaking before Newt could interrupt, “I know I was stupid in ignoring you. I was just scared. Not of what other people think. Well, kinda, sorta, I don’t know yet. But that’s not the point. The point is that after these past few weeks, I was better than I’ve ever been. Almost all my grades are at their highest. I know that, without a doubt, my friends accept me for me and not someone I pretended to be. And I’m _killing_ it at soccer.”

“I’m sorry, but what has this got to do with me?”

“I’m trying to say that, despite everything good that’s going on with me right now, I’ve never felt more alone and miserable. And I know that’s because I didn’t have you. You make me feel like me, Newt. You just look at me and it makes me feel like I’m invincible. Like I can conquer the word. I like you, Newt. I like you so goddam much. And I swear to you, that no matter what happens next, I will be right by your side. You’re the one I want. And I choose you. Over anyone else in this shitty world. You.”

An uneasy stretch of silence passed between the two of them. Thomas just stared at the boy in front of him hopefully.

Newt let out a small laugh. “I thought you were bad at romantic speeches, Tommy,” he teased, effortlessly breaking the tension.

Thomas shrugged and smiled, “What can I say? You bring out the best in me. So, does this mean I’m forgiven?”, he asked tentatively.

He rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Yes, you are. Now close the door behind you, shank. It’s freezing.”

“Yes, dear.”

* * *

“Go, Thomas!”, yelled Newt from the bleachers, clapping and cheering wildly with everyone else around him. It was his boyfriend’s last game of the season and he wanted to be sure he was heard amongst the sea of fans.

“I never thought I’d ever come to a soccer game before,” remanded Chuck, happily munching on some popcorn he had purchased earlier. “It’s a lot more fun that I expected it to be.”

Teresa, who sat right next to Newt, reached over and ruffled his curls. “Don’t judge, Chuck,” she warned, smiling. “These games can get very interesting.”

Ever since Thomas and Newt became an official couple, their friends started hanging out together. The new couple were nervous to see how they’d all react to being around each other, but after breaking the initial awkwardness, their personalities blended together quite nicely.

Across the field and with fifteen second left on the clock, Thomas was weaving in and out of people with ease and grace. Then, at just the right angle and just the right time, he kicked the ball and sent it flying through the air, aiming perfectly into the white net, ending the game.

The crowd and his teammates burst into a deafening cheer and he was quickly lifted into the air. Fans quickly dispersed from the bleachers and made their way on the field to join the players in celebration.

Thomas tried in vain to scan the crowd to find his person and was rewarded immediately. Newt was hanging on the outskirts, clapping along with everyone else, but staying his distance. They had been officially out together as a couple for almost two weeks now, but he didn’t want to do anything that could embarrass or make Thomas uncomfortable.

He gestured for his teammates to let him down and quickly wove his way through the sea of people until he was face to face with Newt.

“Congratulations, Tommy,” gushed Newt, with a wide grin on his face. His face was slightly pink due to the cold and his hair was a mess due to the wind, but he had never looked more beautiful.

Thomas bent down and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. The crowd simmered a little, before erupting into an even louder cheer. He broke away only when he needed get some air and whispered back, “Thank you.”

Newt recovered from his surprise and said, “First you pass your makeup tests, then the final exam, and now you crushed your last game. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Thomas shrugged his shoulders and offered sheepishly, “History? Because I’m definitely going to fail.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought :) If there’s any criticism you have, I’m all ears. Just let me know everything you thought about it and more :) Thank you for reading!


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